PornStar Ch. 03

The phone rang once, twice, three times and with each ring, Darrin groaned, hoping that the intrusion would just go away. But it didn't. It rang again and again until finally, he put the machine out of its misery, pulling the receiver off of the cradle.

"Hello?"

"Hi." Sleep quickly faded when he recognized Spencer's husky voice. "I thought you had an early appointment."

"I did. I just went back to sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, that's all right. I'm glad you called." Darrin took a deep breath, hoping that it would calm his thundering heart. "I ... I wanted to apologize for last night."

"Apologize? For what?"

The kiss. Even as he thought about it, his piss-hard cock began a throbbing of a different kind. It littered his dreams: the softness of his lips and his tongue, the way his body curled around his, the heady scent of his aftershave. He awoke in a puddle of cum, his soft prick stuck to the side of his leg and his sandy pubes matted. A quick shower, a change of sheets and he sank back into the land of Nod, dreams of Spencer afresh.

"You are." Darrin closed his eyes, trying to rub the despair from them and not succeeding. "Spence, you're only in town for the reunion and after it's done, you'll be leaving again. What happens after that?"

"I don't know. I suppose you can come visit me ... "

"That's not what I want, Spence. I don't want any more one-night stands."

"It doesn't have to be a one-night stand, Darrin. It can be a three-night stand." Spencer laughed but quickly stopped, hearing the silence on the other end of the line. "Come on, Dare. Lighten up! Meet me for lunch."

"I can't."

"Another appointment?"

Darrin's heart dropped at the derision in Spencer's voice. And so it begins already. He should have known it would happen. "No. Just a little business meeting."

"So? Meet me after."

"Okay. I'll call you when I'm done. Cool?"

"Cool as long as I get another kiss."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Spence. Let's just ... be friends."

I can't afford to let you into my heart. "Maybe. But I've got to look out for myself. You understand."

"Yeah, unfortunately I do." He smiled, a plan forming in his mind. "Don't forget to call me."

"I won't. See ya."

Spencer hung up the phone, giving his prick a gentle squeeze, promising a little action later. Maybe he'd visit the bathroom and take care of himself ... the knock on the door stopped him in the middle of taking his zipper down. Readjusting himself, he pulled the door open and was surprised to see someone he'd long forgotten about: Scot Sampson.

"Hey, Spence."

Spencer could do nothing but stare at the man. After all, it had been nearly ten years since Scot had taken his virginity. And fuck it all, he still looked the same. Same blue-green eyes, still silver-blond hair and slim body. And when he smiled, the same lopsided dimples cratered his baby smooth cheeks. "Uh, hi, Scot."

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Spencer stepped aside, watching Scot sashay into the room. He closed the door and watched as he went over to the bar, chose the Absolut Peppar and made himself a drink. "So, what brings you here?"

"Heard you were back in town and I wanted a quick fuck."

Spencer laughed. "Yeah, right. That's past history."

"Is it?" Scot stood, backing Spencer up until his back was against the wall. "We can make it present." The open-mouthed kiss Scot placed on his neck turned his legs to jelly and the naughty nip made him gasp, his prick quickly awakening. "And maybe future, if you play your cards right."

Spencer knew better than that. Scot was a fantastic lover but he was entirely too vain and was only interested in his own pleasure. He'd never consider Spencer for a long-term relationship; the word, long-term, simply didn't exist in his vocabulary. Quick fuck did, however, and Spencer was so horny that it was impossible to resist him, especially when he reached into his pants and cupped his hard cock.

"See? I knew you'd be interested."

Without warning, Scot's mouth covered his, his tongue plumbing the depths and wrapping around his. Spencer shivered as Scot's buried hand grew more insistent, stroking and squeezing until he had to unzip his own pants to relieve the pressure. Scot forcefully yanked the pants down, turned Spencer to the wall and gave his lily-white cheeks a couple of slaps. Spencer whimpered, gritting his teeth against the stinging pain but his cock hardened with each slap. He panted as the assault ended, his heart pounding.

"More, please."

Scot's broad, callused hands met his skin again and again, raining down smacks until his entire ass was rosy. "Still like that, don't you?"

"Oh, yes!" Scot bent him against the wall, prying his sweaty cheeks apart and viciously laving Spencer's asshole. His cock throbbed with each circle that Scot's tongue made and ropes of cum pumped out when his tongue thrust inside, tongue-fucking him with a ferocity that took his breath away. "Fuck!"

"Fuck is right!" Scot stood up, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and ripping it off, his pants swiftly following suit. Spencer felt his thick body behind him, then spread himself as far as he could when he felt the fat head of his cock probing his wet hole. "Time to dance, baby."

The first thrust took Spencer completely off-guard. He had been prepared for the entrance but not prepared for the sweet pain and pleasure that mingled together, ripping through him like a bliss-filled dagger. His cry of joy was abruptly cut off by the next thrust, hard, deep and again, so sweet. He wanted to cry at the sheer beauty of it but he couldn't seem to catch his breath long enough to sob. Instead, he bent more, allowing Scot deeper access and immediately grunted in reward.

His cock arose again, thickening in response to Scot's pounding and the feel of the man's mouth and teeth on the back of his neck. "God, I forgot how good you were!" Spencer shuddered at the lust in his partner's voice and leaned his head back, just as Scot's hands snaked around his waist, one pulling him close while the other grasped and stroked his aching cock. Spencer thought he had died and had gone to heaven when Scot pulled his mouth to his and his tongue began a frantic stroking that matched the fucking.

"Oh, God! Yes!"

Spencer welcomed the break in the kiss to draw a long breath as he came a second time, his release triggered by Scot's orgasm. His warm sperm pumped into his bowls, each spurt heightening his own release and he sagged into Scot's arms, shaking with aftershocks. Scot withdrew, carrying them both over to the couch, licking the sweat from his neck and causing another shiver.

"Miss me?"

Spencer could barely breathe and cursed himself with each breath. He had vowed not to let Scot use him again but the feelings were just too strong, just too close to the surface to resist him. "I hate you."

"I'm sure you do but your cock sure doesn't." Scot licked his ear, drawing a low moan of pleasure from Spencer, one that deepened into a growl when Scot pinched his nipple. "Care to dance again?"

Spencer couldn't reply. He slipped into sweet oblivion when Scot entered him again and he forgot about everything else.

* * * * *

"Congratulations, Otto." Sly Ackerman raised his glass, toasting the handsome young man that sat across the table from him. "You are the highest paid gay star in porn history."

"I already was." Otto said snidely, quaffing a glass of champagne in a single gulp and gesturing for more, which Ackerman quickly poured.

"Well, you're richer. That's for damn sure." Sly gave a gentle smile. "Jesus was out of words to describe how fantastic you were, especially with that new kid."

"Bert? He just needed a little coaching." Otto sat back in his chair, giving his cock a hard squeeze, an action that drew Sly's attention. "He was a natural at cocksucking, though."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Another squeeze. "Did this wonderful little thing with his tongue when he had me in the back of his throat. Swallowed and licked at the same time. Fuck, he was good." Otto gave himself another squeeze, this time, making eye contact with Sly. "I wouldn't mind starring in another movie with him."

Sly shifted uncomfortably, draining his glass much too quickly and refilling with a shaky hand. He knew that Otto had noticed but he would never say anything. It had been eleven years since he'd befriended Otto and had become his agent and through all those years, the first lean one, then the subsequent success, he had lusted after Otto like no one before. He watched every movie and carefully guided Otto's career, performing stage mother duties with his usual aplomb and ensuring Otto's protection.

But Otto had never revealed his real name and would only meet him here, at the Wilshire, to collect his pay for previous work and sign contracts. And Sly had remained his true friend, his only friend.

"This is my last contract, Sly."

"What?"

"You heard me. It's the last."

A deep heat curled in Sly's gut when he saw the momentary vacant look in his eyes. "No, Otto. Please."

"I can't live like this any more." Otto whispered. "I just can't."

"But killing yourself isn't the way out."

"Then what is?"

"Retire. Take the money you've banked and live a new life in a new country. Somewhere where no one knows who you are."

"And live alone?" Otto threw his head back laughing. "I already do that here. Why the hell would I want to continue that?"

"If you quit pushing people away, you might find someone."

"Then what? Tell them I'm an ex-porn star and watch them beat a path to the door?"

"Not everyone is going to care what you do!"

"Well, I haven't found one yet and I doubt that I ever will." Otto refilled his glass and took his shirt off in one fluid movement. "So, I have a gift for you." He hefted the bottle, kicking off his shoes as he walked over to the bed and climbed on top. "Me."

"Otto ... "

"Sly, I know you want me."

"Not this way."

"What way?"

"A pre-suicide gift."

The word suicide struck both men like a smack in the face and Otto busied himself with emptying his glass. "Whatever you say."

"No. You say it. I want you to say it."

"Say what?"

"The word. Suicide."

"What?"

"You heard me. Say it." Otto stared at him for a long moment. His mouth opened but the word stuck in his throat. "Can't say it, can you? But you can sit around all day and think about it." Sly walked over to the bed. "I bet you've even picked a place to do it, haven't you?" When Otto looked away, Sly knew that his instincts were right. "I knew it."

"So what? So what if I have?"

"You're an idiot, that's what!" Sly tossed the remainder of his champagne into Otto's face and launched himself at the unsuspecting young man, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him violently. "You're so fucking selfish! Did you even bother to think about anyone else?" Otto's piercing blue eyes swung up to Sly's brown ones, stricken with confusion. "Don't you think that there are other people out there suffering like you?"

"And you see what a footnote her life and death became. You want that for yourself?"

Otto's eyes suddenly filled with tears and Sly embraced the young man, letting his hands float across silken flesh while sobs quaked through him. "Sly," His voice was broken, filled with pain. "No one will ever love me."

"Yes, someone will. You just have to be patient." He gave him a squeeze. "Besides, I love you."

"I know, Otto. I'm lonely all the time."

"What do you do?"

"Date. Try to find someone that I connect with and go out. Get out and see the sights." Sly used part of the sheet to wipe Otto's face. "Talk to people. Don't stay holed up inside." He touched his cheek, drawing Otto's eyes to his. "And don't even think about committing suicide."

Otto nodded lamely, his head drooping. Sly refilled his glass and put it in his hand. Otto took a drink and raised his head. "My name's Darrin. Darrin Mathews."

Sly extended his hand, taking his firmly and gently in his own. "Pleased to meet you, Darrin."